


Embrazo

by BlueSimplicity



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Returns, Arthur-centric, Eventual Happy Ending, Immortal Merlin, M/M, POV Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSimplicity/pseuds/BlueSimplicity
Summary: Arthur notices Merlin’s arms.





	Embrazo

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this Tumblr post:  
> http://brolinskeep.tumblr.com/post/160009126841/lovecolinmorgan-colin-morgan-mykro-magazine
> 
> HUGE thanks to my AMAZING betas Carole and katherynefromphilly. (Seriously, her work is phenomenal. If you haven’t read it, you really should.) All remaining mistakes are my own.

The first time Arthur notices Merlin’s arms, it’s about three days after his father “gifted” him with the idiotic manservant. Merlin is clumsy, and useless, and he can’t tell the difference between a gauntlet and a bracer. And even worse, he just doesn’t know when to _shut up_.

So he supposes it is that, the sudden quiet, that makes him look up from the crop reports his father is having him read, to look for him.

Merlin is standing by Arthur’s bed, with the window behind him, trying to change the sheets with a look on his face as if he can’t understand why anyone would need so many blankets. It is then, as Arthur watches, that he actually _sees_ Merlin for the first time.

He is still a boy really, just barely into manhood. His ears are big, his hair dark and unruly, and his skin as pale as milk. As he flicks the sheet out to cover Arthur’s bed, the sunlight catches him from behind, and Arthur can see the silhouette of his arms through his shirt. It is then that Arthur realises that Merlin is also really really skinny.

And it’s silly, he thinks, such a silly thing to notice. Merlin is just a servant after all, and a bad one at that. But it bothers him all the same.

It’s that night, after the end of the evening meal, when Arthur walks into the kitchens while the serving girls are cleaning up and preparing for the next day, that he speaks to Cook, and tells her to add a second portion of meat to Merlin’s meals. If she thinks it’s strange, Cook doesn’t say. He is the prince after all, and it would look bad upon him if his weakling of a servant passes out from hunger in the middle of his duties.

That and some mace work, Arthur thinks as he returns to his chambers. That should do the trick.

***

It’s not until they’re in Ealdor that Arthur notices Merlin’s arms again. It’s a small village, this place that Merlin calls home. And like so many other border villages, the people here struggle more than they have to, more than they should. Kings care about their borders, but seldom about the people living there at the very edges, and Ealdor struggles with taxes that are too high and bandits that are too quick to strike at easy prey. It’s the type of thing Arthur swears to change once he becomes king.

Yet for all of that, Ealdor’s citizens are kind and welcoming and brave. It is here that Arthur meets Merlin’s mother for the first time. Hunith is a tiny woman, but strong, in the ways that often elude kings and knights and men. She must be, Arthur thinks, to have raised a son like Merlin. Her eyes are bright and her smile generous. Arthur sees so much of her in Merlin (or perhaps so much of Merlin in her.)

It is after the battle has been won and Kanen defeated, that Arthur watches as Merlin stands in the doorway to his mother’s hut, and takes her into his arms. _She is such a tiny thing,_ Arthur thinks again, but that is not the way Merlin is holding her. He holds her against his chest, not as if she is frail, but precious. A treasure to be valued above all others, and something he has been honoured with keeping safe.

It is then, as mother and son hold each other, that Arthur thinks that Merlin’s arms are probably strong enough to embrace the entire world.

***

The third time Arthur notices Merlin’s arms, Morgana is standing over him, murmuring of wars and blood and wolves. Arthur can barely breathe, can barely move, only enough to turn his eyes.

It is then that Arthur sees Merlin, rising silent as a shadow, Excalibur in his arms. He strikes swift as a snake, and before Arthur can take another breath, Morgana is falling to the ground. He looks to Merlin then, looks to see Excalibur’s blood covered blade held loosely at his side, and then up to Merlin’s eyes. There is a look there, fleeting and gone in the next instant, and Arthur grieves.

Because he knows that look, has felt it in his breast as Knight and Prince and King. To have to strike someone down as enemy, when once in your heart you held them as comrade, sister, friend. It is a wound that is almost too heavy to bear and he would have done anything in his power to spare Merlin that.

But then Merlin is crouching by his side, lifting Arthur to his shoulder, and Arthur realises that this is just one more burden, one more weight after thousands of them, that Arthur has forced Merlin to carry. And never once have Merlin’s arms faltered.

***  
The fourth time Arthur notices Merlin’s arms, it’s as Arthur is choking on his own blood. There’s a voice, and screaming, and begging, and crying. There are bodies, there is pain, so much pain, and a journey that never seems to end.

He’s dying, and he knows it. And it’s okay, because Merlin’s arms are around him, and he knows he won’t die alone. It’s in these last moments that he realises these arms are the right ones, that they’ve always been the right ones, and his heart pulses with regrets. A decade’s worth of them, held here in the embrace of Merlin’s arms.

“Hold me,” he whispers. And in those two words is everything he cannot say. Everything it’s too late to say now. _Thank you_ and _I’m so sorry_ and _I love you_ and _Goodbye._

He slips away then, knowing those arms are the last thing he will ever feel. And it’s okay, he realises, because wrapped in those arms, it is more than enough.

***

It’s on Avalon that Arthur notices Merlin’s arms yet again. Or more precisely, their lack. It is cold here, on this isle beyond the shores of time. Cold and gray and empty. So he sits, and he waits.

He knows that time is passing, although he can’t say for sure how he knows. And eventually, he starts to see the others. Gaius is first, even older and grayer than Arthur remembers. He shambles onto the shore with shaking movements, but with each step he takes, his legs seem to grow stronger and his stride longer. His hair turns the tawny gold it was when Arthur was a boy, and he moves as if he has never known the burden of wars and purges and mad kings. He doesn’t seem to notice Arthur, instead striding toward someone else, someone who is standing just beyond the shadows as if they have been waiting for Gaius all this time.

“Alice!” He hears in a voice stronger than Gaius’s ever was. “Oh Alice. Alice. _Alice!”_ Then Gaius is gone and Arthur is alone again.

But not for long. Hunith is next. Her hair is streaked silver and her face drawn, but with each step she takes, the time of her life seems to melt away until she is all but running into the arms of a man Arthur didn’t even know was there. _Balinor, Merlin’s father,_ Arthur thinks, as the man scoops Hunith up into his arms and swings her around, the two of them laughing like children at a fair. And then they are gone, and Arthur is alone again.

He sees others he knows passing through the gray. Knights from his Round Table, Cook, and even Percival, who runs to a voice that sounds suspiciously like Gwaine’s calling his name. Then Sir Leon makes his way through, silent and stoic, until he too is no more.

And then finally, there is Gwen, Guinevere, his wife, his Queen. Her face is lined, and her curls white, but her shoulders are proud as she steps up from the shore. She walks with courage, with grace, with strength, oh so very much strength. But she doesn’t stop, and she doesn’t see him. And Arthur thinks that’s all right, he knows whose arms she is walking towards, whose arms have been waiting for her. It’s long overdue, and Arthur is happy that finally, finally, Gwen can feel those arms around her

So he sits, and he waits. He waits for Merlin and his arms, because he is cold and he is lonely, and there is nothing he wants more than to feel Merlin’s arms around him once more. Time passes. And Arthur sits. And Arthur waits.

But Merlin never comes.

***

An eon passes. Or maybe it’s a moment. Arthur cannot tell. Time is a funny thing on Avalon, in this space between the worlds. He knows that he is waiting, that things have changed, but other than that he has not known much at all. And then he hears a voice.

“ _It is time_ ,” it says. It is strong, and it is gentle, and Arthur again thinks of Hunith for a moment, before suddenly there is a lurch, and an icy grip in his bowels. Then he is burning, and then he is cold, too cold even for the nothingness that is Avalon, and then he is struggling against something heavy, dark and deep.

Until suddenly, he feels himself being pulled up, towards a light that wasn’t there before. He takes a deep shuddering breath, that quakes his bones, his blood and his heart, and thinks _No_ and _This is too much_ and _I can’t bear it._

But then there are arms around him. Strong and warm and dear, and a voice he knows whispering in his ear. “Arthur, oh gods, _Arthur_ ,” it shivers and begs and _sobs_. So Arthur opens his eyes.

The first thing he sees is that beautiful face, so familiar to him even after all this time, with eyes too big and blue, and skin still as pale as milk. And then he feels those arms, those beloved arms, still as strong as ever, wrapping around him as if he is something precious, never a burden too heavy to bear, but a treasure to be kept safe.

“ _Merlin_ ,” he whispers. It is the first word he has spoken in over an age. “Merlin, Merlin, _Merlin_.” And Merlin tightens his embrace and pulls Arthur to his heart, and promises to never ever let him go.

***

It’s a few weeks after that, as Arthur is lying in their bed, sweaty, content and satisfied, that Arthur kisses the top of Merlin’s head resting on his shoulder, and strokes his fingers down the pale arm that is draped across his chest. _He’s still too skinny_ , Arthur thinks as he traces the web of veins. But then he realises it doesn’t matter. Because these arms, these arms that have waited for over a millennia to hold him again, are the strongest arms he has ever known. With these arms around him, he knows that he is home. He knows that he is safe. And he knows that he is loved.

***

A month later, Arthur wakes up alone in their bed. He doesn’t know what it was that woke him, a movement, a flicker of light, or maybe even the cold of the sheets. He pauses for a moment, and that’s when he hears it, a muffled sound from the bathroom, as if it’s trying to hide itself from the dark.

He’s not surprised when he opens the door to see Merlin crouched on the floor, arms curled around his knees, face buried between them, as he tries to muffle his sobs. Merlin has been his rock for these past couple of weeks as Arthur adjusted to this new world, guiding him with patience, love and a healthy dose of humour. (“ _It’s a washing machine Arthur. It’s not an evil vortex of sorcery. And really, why on earth would any sorcerer, even an evil one, want your dirty underwear?”_ and _“No Arthur, no, he is not royalty even if he is called the Burger King. We are not going to the land of burger every time you want a damned cheeseburger. It‘s called a drive thru.”_ and _“I don’t know why they’re called trainers Arthur, they just are. That doesn’t mean when you put them on, you have to train. And no, you prat, you can’t have a mace!”_ ) He’s dealt with Arthur’s panic, confusion and struggles to adapt to this strange new world that in some ways is so much simpler than Camelot, and in some ways so much more complicated than Arthur thinks it has to be.

So if it is Merlin’s turn now, Merlin’s turn to tremble and shudder and feel fear, then it’s Arthur’s turn as well.

“ _Sh_ ,” he soothes, as he lowers himself to the floor and takes Merlin into his arms. And “ _sh_ ” when Merlin grabs onto him and whispers “I’m so afraid Arthur, I’m so afraid that I’ll wake up and this will be a dream, and I’ll be all alone again,” as if this is a secret, as if Arthur hadn’t known.

So Arthur pulls him close, and kisses his ear, and wraps his arms oh so very tightly around Merlin. And in that moment Arthur knows, that if it’s this, if this is the reason he’s been brought back, then that’s okay.

It’s Merlin’s turn now, and Arthur will make sure he knows that he is never letting him go.

FIN


End file.
